


Love and Misguided Need

by swampslip



Series: i eat and eat and eat [1]
Category: Red Dead Redemption (Video Games)
Genre: Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Alternate Universe - Farm/Ranch, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Angst, Complicated Relationships, Condoms, Cunnilingus, Drug Withdrawal, First Time, Hurt/Comfort, Infertility, Knotting, Knotting Dildos, Loss of Virginity, Masturbation, Mating Cycles/In Heat, Medical, Misunderstandings, Other, Reunions, Running Away, Squirting, Vaginal Fingering, Vaginal Sex, Wet & Messy, i said this was modern but like y2k modern, kinda but like, specifically sometimes failing condoms, uncomfortable sex, unhappy reunions :), which i realize was two decades ago but please don't make me acknowledge that, you all know
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-12
Updated: 2021-01-12
Packaged: 2021-03-16 18:35:51
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 13,439
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28711356
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/swampslip/pseuds/swampslip
Summary: "How close do you think you are?" Arthur asks and his fingertips are moving lightly over John's spine in a way that feelsreallyabsurdly good."I don't know.""You cold? Warm?" Arthur murmurs and his other hand moves up to John's forehead, "You feel a lil' cooler.""Pre-heat," John whispers."Mm-hm.""... Should I just head up now?" John asks hoarsely, "So, I don't bother anybody?""... You ain't botherin' me."John flushes darker and closes his eyes.Biting the inside of his cheek, he's not sure how to tell Arthur that it feels like the older man is accelerating how fast his heat is coming on."Arthur," John whispers shakily, "You gotta stop touchin' me."Arthur's hands still, then lift off of him."Oh- Uh… Sorry."John covers his face miserably and nods before pulling his knees up and hiding."It's not that I don't want you touchin' me but it's- It's makin' it worse.""Yeah, no, I understand," Arthur says gently.There's a silence between them and it's tense."Unless you… You want me to?" Arthur offers quietly.
Relationships: John Marston/Arthur Morgan
Series: i eat and eat and eat [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2096316
Comments: 12
Kudos: 57





	Love and Misguided Need

**Author's Note:**

> ohhh boy okay so infertility plays a way bigger part in this than in the second part if you read that first so just be warned it is a fairly large plot point   
> nub, cunt, hole, slit, chest, mention of cervix all used for John  
> there is a late, kinda blink-and-you'll-miss-it discussion of an off screen top surgery   
> uhh john's got a whole kinda medical issue that affects his heats, makes them more painful, harder to satisfy, easier to break   
> there's also a mention of something called heartsickness in this which is like... if an omega gets super attached to an alpha but gets rejected it can make them literally physically ill   
> uhhhhh   
> i think that's everything,,,

John splutters when Arthur flicks some alfalfa pellets at him through the window between the stalls they're in. 

"Arthur," John huffs, "Knock it off."

"Why you so down lately, John? C'mon, cheer up."

"I ain't down!" John leans in to squint at the older man through the window and Arthur turns to look at him as well, "Just feel a lil' sick."

He watches concern furrow Arthur's brows and rolls his eyes, stepping away from the window and continuing to spread out the bedding. 

He's not expecting Arthur to come around into the stall he's in so when he turns to see Arthur just behind him he startles and stumbles back.

"You okay?" Arthur asks quietly and steps closer, placing the back of his hand against John's forehead and frowning harder, "What kinda sick?" 

"Just- Just sick, I dunno," John mumbles, "Been all tired and kinda dizzy."

Arthur's hand pulls back but the older man continues frowning down at him. 

Then Arthur rustles his hair and chuckles when John protests. 

"You should be wearin' your hat n' gloves when it's cold like this," Arthur murmurs, drops his hand to John's shoulder, "You're too slight to be out here like this."

"Gee, thanks," John mutters but Arthur's making him fluster, whether it's the proximity or the teasing he's not sure. 

Then his gut pangs with heat and he inhales sharply in surprise. 

Arthur blinks at him, tilts his head in confusion. 

"You good?" 

"I- Uh…" John says breathily then tries to step away but Arthur keeps him in place. 

A couple inches back and Arthur would be pinning him to the wall. 

John makes a thready noise at the thought and tenses. 

"John?" Arthur whispers, his hand sliding up to cup the side of John's neck.

It's a concerned, fond action but John's gut pangs again and he shifts his weight with a shaky breath and a weak sound that's almost a whimper as he feels himself getting slick.

Arthur goes very still in front of him then his eyes widen and lips part in surprise. 

"Oh," Arthur says hoarsely, "John…"

"I gotta- I gotta go up to the-" John says shakily, "I-"

"Yeah," Arthur agrees and shifts back a bit but John follows, trying to keep their contact, "Shit, this is your first, right?" 

John nods and Arthur gently squeezes his neck.

It makes John shudder and lean into the older man, grabbing at Arthur's arm. 

Arthur inhales deeply like he's gonna sigh but tenses at the scent of John's heat, arousal, sugary warmth in the air around them. 

"Jesus, John," Arthur whispers hoarsely then pulls back roughly, grabbing John's shoulders and guiding the younger out of the barn, "C'mon, I'll help you get your stuff and take you on up."

John makes a weak sound of agreement, trying not to focus on the growing warmth and wetness between his thighs. 

Luckily they don't pass anyone on the way to John's room, Arthur nudging him inside then rubbing over his mouth in thought. 

"You don't got an Alpha," Arthur mutters. 

"I don't," John agrees and rubs at his face before rummaging around his closet and drawers, "Had half a hope I'd never heat."

"... Why?" 

"I… I just don't like the idea," John says roughly, "Bein' all worked up n' needy."

"That ain't no different than your norm."

John huffs and looks up at Arthur behind him and sees the older man smiling gently, but his eyes are concerned. 

"I know what I'm supposed to do but it's still…" John shrugs and gestures vaguely at himself, "Hardly do that on my own time, now I'm just supposed to for a couple days straight?"

Arthur starts to say a couple things then hums his indecision and scratches at the scruff on his face. 

"So you probably don't got any of those… Those 'Omega Helpers', right?"

John shakes his head and fidgets with his bag. 

"We'll get you some," Arthur says hoarsely. 

"Thanks," John says half-heartedly, turns and looks at Arthur for direction. 

"Uh… Let's… Let's grab you some food then I'll drive you up, alright?" 

John fidgets and drops his gaze but nods slowly. 

"You need somethin' else?" Arthur asks quietly. 

John shakes his head silently and Arthur nods towards the hallway. 

"C'mon."

\--

Arthur obviously wanted to hug him before driving off but held back and John lays on his side on the bed just holding himself. 

He almost asked Arthur to stay, to help him. 

He regrets not even trying, as his body aches and he turns his face into the pillow, cheeks burning as he slips his fingers into his jeans and tentatively rubs himself.

\--

John uses the satellite to send a page to Arthur that his heat’s done after he drags himself out of the tub and towels off. 

He's exhausted and sore all over and he doesn't know what he expected but being miserably unable to satisfy himself for three days straight wasn't it. 

After getting dressed he strips the bed and opens the windows to try and get rid of the scent of arousal and heat…

And misery. 

John rubs his thumb over his lip and grabs his bag and the laundry bag before moving to sit out on the front deck and waiting for Arthur. 

\--

Arthur's kinda awkward when he pulls up and John makes his way down the steps, throwing the bags into the bed and climbing into the passenger seat. 

"Hey," Arthur says gently. 

"Hi."

"... How was it?"

"Like I said," John mutters, "Wish I never heated."

Arthur makes a sympathetic sound then grabs the cup from the center console and holds it out to John. 

It's a cherry coke icee. 

John blinks at it for a second then laughs, accepts it gratefully. 

"Thanks," John shakes his head in amusement and starts to sip on it. 

"No problem," Arthur murmurs, pulling the truck away from the cabin and turning back up the road towards the ranch, "You eat anythin'?"

"Mm, not today, but yeah had some sandwiches and shit," John rubs at his eyes tiredly, "Thanks for that, too."

Arthur just hums softly, reaches over, and pats John's knee.

\--

When three months pass and it's nearing John's heat again he starts getting antsy about it. 

Arthur notices, because of course he does. 

"Hey," Arthur says and sits down next to John on the hill overlooking the property, "You alright?"

"I don't wanna do that again," John whispers, "But it's not like I can just opt out of it."

"I'm sorry, Johnny," Arthur sighs and reaches around him, squeezing his shoulders, "I really am. It's not supposed to be so bad for you."

John shrugs weakly, not wanting to displace Arthur's arm.

"I… I ordered some of those things for Omegas," Arthur says quietly, "Since we don't have a store 'round here."

"... Really?"

"Yeah, just… Uh, the simpler ones," Arthur mumbles and John huffs softly, amused at Arthur's embarrassment. 

"Woulda thought you'd be against 'em, if I'm honest."

"What?" Arthur leans away to frown at him.

"Just… You can be kinda old-fashioned, figured you’d be of the mind that they're bad."

"No, I-" Arthur's hand slides from his shoulder to his spine, and John has to stop himself from shivering, "I don't think they're bad."

"It wasn't… I don't really see how they'll help anyway," John mutters darkly, "Nothin' worked last time."

"They… They help you trick your body," Arthur says weakly, "Into thinkin' you're bein' bred."

John presses his lips together as his cheeks heat, resolutely looking forward. 

They've never talked about this, about _anything_ like this. 

"How close do you think you are?" Arthur asks and his fingertips are moving lightly over John's spine in a way that feels _really_ absurdly good. 

"I don't know."

"You cold? Warm?" Arthur murmurs and his other hand moves up to John's forehead, "You feel a lil' cooler."

"Pre-heat," John whispers.

"Mm-hm."

"... Should I just head up now?" John asks hoarsely, "So, I don't bother anybody?" 

"... You ain't botherin' me."

John flushes darker and closes his eyes. 

Biting the inside of his cheek, he's not sure how to tell Arthur that it feels like the older man is accelerating how fast his heat is coming on. 

"Arthur," John whispers shakily, "You gotta stop touchin' me."

Arthur's hands still, then lift off of him. 

"Oh- Uh… Sorry."

John covers his face miserably and nods before pulling his knees up and hiding. 

"It's not that I don't want you touchin' me but it's- It's makin' it worse."

"Yeah, no, I understand," Arthur says gently. 

There's a silence between them and it's tense. 

"Unless you… You want me to?" Arthur offers quietly. 

John lifts his head and blinks at Arthur. 

"I mean I could help you, if you don't do so well on your own it's not that strange, some Omegas are just worse off without an Alpha helpin' and I…" Arthur trails off when he realizes he's rambling, "I- Uh-"

"... Are you serious?" John whispers. 

"I don't wanna make you uncomfortable or anythin', but yeah, I could help," Arthur says and awkwardly rubs the side of his neck. 

John shifts and rubs at his arms slowly, then nods. 

"Yeah," John whispers, "Yeah, please? I don't think there's anyone else I trust enough to…"

"No pressure, alright?" Arthur says and gestures between them, "And if you change your mind that's fine, yeah? Still gonna help you get everythin' together if you want."

"... By helpin'-" John whispers hoarsely, "You mean breedin' me?" 

Arthur swallows loudly next to him and John watches the older man fidget. 

"I don't wanna risk you gettin' pregnant… So yeah, I mean knottin' you, if you want, but with a barrier." 

"Jesus," John whispers and squirms and Arthur watches, "I… I haven't had anyone inside me." 

"Oh," Arthur says hoarsely.

"I- If that changes- If you don't want…" John shrugs weakly and rubs at his face, "I don't know how to make it good for you." 

"S'not about me… Trust me, John, even just smellin' how worked up you were last time was _good_ for me."

"We should… We should head up," John says carefully as he feels his gut pulsing, starting to warm.

"Jesus," Arthur says under his breath but stands and offers a hand down to John, "You get worked up so quick." 

John lets the older man pull him up but hesitates to move back when he ends up close to Arthur, only inches between them. 

He squeezes Arthur's hand and his eyes drop down to Arthur's lips. 

"C'mon," Arthur whispers and John's eyes flick back up, "C'mon, we gotta go pack."

\--

John can't stop fidgeting on the drive up, slick already soaking his boxers and his face burns. 

“You alright?” Arthur asks hoarsely. 

“Comin’ on faster,” John whispers, “Kinda hurts.”

Arthur hums quietly as they pull up to the cabin. 

“Why don’t you head up n’ lay down, I’ll bring everythin’ up,” Arthur offers softly, parking the truck and cutting the engine, “Get some firewood up too.”

“You sure?”

“Yeah, Johnny, s’no problem, go ahead,” Arthur says then hops out of the truck.

\--

John curls up on the bed and closes his eyes tightly, listening to Arthur go up and down the steps, bringing things just inside the cabin. 

It’s cold, much colder than the main house on the ranch. 

John tugs one edge of the quilt over himself and wraps up in it, burrowing down and trying to get warm. 

“Alright,” Arthur says and closes the door, locking it up and dropping the heavy wool curtain to insulate it, “Got some wood.”

“Thanks,” John whispers. 

Arthur comes around and stacks the wood up next to the stove, loading it up and getting it lit before turning around. 

“Cold?” Arthur asks quietly. 

John huffs and rolls onto his stomach, hiding his face in the pillows. 

He hears Arthur laughing softly, moving around. 

Then the bed dips on either side of his shoulders and Arthur’s weight presses down on him. 

John holds still as Arthur tucks the quilt in tighter around him before the older man’s arms squeeze him tightly. 

John feels trapped for a moment, bundled up and immobilized under Arthur’s weight. 

Something about it makes him _warm_ , being held down, almost smothered. 

“Can you breathe?” Arthur asks quietly and John nods quickly, “... Alright.”

John makes a small, wavering noise and shifts lightly as he clenches around nothing, fighting the urge to press his hips back into Arthur’s. 

“... I was expectin’ you to throw a fit,” Arthur says quietly and his fingers brush the side of John’s face, tucking the younger’s hair back, “You really that cold?”

“Feels good,” John whispers.

“... Oh, okay.”

John takes in a shaky breath and squeezes the quilt in his hands. 

“Can smell you,” Arthur murmurs, nudges John’s hair off the back of the younger’s neck to expose his claiming spot, “Smell real sweet.”

John just groans shakily and squirms as he leaks more slick, fully aware it’s probably showing through his light wash jeans. 

“Jesus, Johnny,” Arthur whispers and his lips brush John’s claiming spot and the younger flinches, whimpers sharply, “Shh, s’okay.”

Arthur gently presses kisses around John’s claiming spot until the younger is whimpering and squirming under him. 

“C’mon, let’s get you more comfortable,” Arthur murmurs and lifts up, unfolding the blankets from around John, kneeling over the younger as John turns onto his back. 

John’s face is cherry-pink and he’s not meeting Arthur’s eyes, shifting under Arthur nervously. 

“You alright, darlin’?” Arthur asks gently and shifts back, straddling John’s legs and sitting up, his eyes trailing down the younger’s body and catching on the dark spot between John’s thighs, “Oh.”

“Hate this,” John says shakily and rubs at his eyes, “S’gross.”

“... I disagree.”

John huffs quietly but keeps frowning, turning his face away. 

“Can… Can I take these off?” Arthur asks, his fingers pinching the denim over John’s hip. 

John swallows roughly and nods, but doesn’t move to help. 

Arthur watches him for a moment then unbuttons John’s jeans, 

The younger closes his eyes tightly and clenches his fingers in the sheets as he lifts his hips while Arthur shuffles down, tugging John’s pants off.

There’s a moment of silence and John tenses, bringing a hand up to cover his mouth, goosebumps covering his skin as he feels Arthur staring at him. 

Then fingers wrap around either of his ankles and gently encourage his legs to spread. 

John inhales shakily and clenches around nothing, but lets Arthur push his legs open, exposing the damp fabric of his boxers to the cool air. 

“God,” Arthur says, and it’s strangled, thick, “Did you get like this last time too?”

“Not this bad,” John whispers, “Not… Not _so much.”_

Arthur spreads his legs further then scoots up to kneel between John’s thighs. 

John’s legs tense and flex, not sure what to do with this new position. 

Or the bulk of Arthur’s warmth suddenly so close, hovering over him. 

He feels vulnerable in a way he never has. 

Not _scared_ , but exposed. 

Arthur’s hands settle on his thighs and John flinches lightly, the warmth in comparison to the cool air an honest shock to his nerves. 

“Sorry,” Arthur says quietly and his hands go stiff on John’s legs, “You okay?”

“I’m… I’m nervous,” John admits quietly, opens his eyes to look up at Arthur. 

The older man is somehow closer than he was expecting and John looks down between their bodies, shifting his legs to accommodate Arthur’s hips better. 

“Still cold, too,” John mutters and fidgets with the cuffs of his sweatshirt.

“... I can fix that,” Arthur whispers and lowers himself the rest of the way, his hips pressing to John’s. 

John can’t breathe, trembling with the effort to not rock up against Arthur as the older man’s bulge presses into his slit through his damp boxers. 

“Fuck,” John bites out and closes his eyes again, “Arthur… Please.”

“Shh,” Arthur presses his lips to John’s forehead, “You’re alright, Johnny. Gonna go slow, okay?”

“I don’t-” John makes a rough sound and squirms, “Can we go a _lil’_ faster?”

Arthur huffs a soft laugh and presses his lips to John’s cheek. 

“What’d you do last time?” 

“Just… Just played with myself,” John whispers, “It didn’t help.”

“Inside? Outside?”

“... Outside.”

Arthur hums softly then rocks his hips and John squeezes the quilt under him tighter, lips parting. 

He can feel the seams on Arthur’s jeans as the older man moves, the cotton of his boxers dragging back and forth over his nub. 

“Oh god,” John whispers and opens his eyes, staring up at the ceiling, “Arthur… Shit, that feels good.”

“Yeah?” Arthur murmurs and moves his mouth down to the side of John’s neck, his hair tickling John’s cheek, “Can feel how hot you are. Bet you’re gonna soak my jeans, huh?”

John makes a shaky sound and squirms as he leaks more slick, his hips twitching up to meet Arthur’s. 

“There you go,” Arthur whispers, “Don’t hold back.”

Then rocking his hips a little firmer, the younger whining quietly, wrapping his legs behind Arthur’s thighs. 

Rolling his hips up, grinding his slit on Arthur’s bulge as he leaks and leaks. 

Arthur groans roughly and presses his face into John’s neck. 

“Can you get off like this?” Arthur asks. 

John shrugs unsteadily then shakes his head. 

“Okay, okay… Can I get my hands on you?” Arthur kisses under his ear then lifts up, “You want my fingers inside?”

John keeps his eyes closed tight and shrugs again. 

“... Have you ever done _anythin’?”_ Arthur asks slowly, “At all?”

And when John shakes his head it makes sense, why the younger’s so nervous. 

“Oh, Johnny,” Arthur sighs and sits up, moving one of his hands to find John’s, tangling their fingers, “Hey, you got the reins here, alright? What d’you want me to do?”

“... I don’t know,” John admits quietly, “It’s not… I’m not scared or anythin’, but why would rubbin’ off work if you do it, when it didn’t help last time?”

“Yeah… I know, okay? But if you want me to knot you I’m gonna need you a lil’ loose,” Arthur explains slowly, “Gettin’ you off a couple times before will help, plus… I gotta work you open.”

John squeezes Arthur’s hand and shifts lightly under the older man. 

“How big _are_ you?” John whispers. 

Arthur just huffs softly, pulling John with him, his free hand sliding under John’s ass as he crawls backward off the bed and stands. 

“Turn down the covers,” Arthur murmurs and sets John down, rubbing his hand up John’s spine to the younger’s nape, cupping the claiming spot. 

John whines and presses close to the older man. 

“I know,” Arthur hushes him then steps away, “Gonna grab some things.”

John watches Arthur move over to their bags and turns to tug the covers down on the bed, catches sight of his reflection in the window as he crawls under the covers. 

Arthur comes back over and sets a couple condoms on the nightstand then sets a bag on the bed, moving to sit up against the headboard next to John. 

“These are those… Helpers,” Arthur says quietly, “Omega toys.”

John’s slumped down on the pillows next to him, turns more onto his side and eyes the bag warily. 

Arthur swallows and opens it, pulling out the toys. 

One’s real simple, just a straight shaft of silicone, not too big, no knot. 

The next is a little bigger, thicker, with a flared bulb above the base. 

The third is the closest Arthur could find to his own size, decent length, _thick_ , with an expanding base that flares into a fat knot. 

“They’re… They’re all washed, so if you-” Arthur licks his lips nervously and drops the empty bag off the bed then sits quietly, glancing between John and the toys. 

John just stares for a moment then props himself onto his elbow, reaching for the smallest toy first. 

“It might be a lil’ easier on you if you work up to it,” Arthur says quietly, “Bein’ knotted proper.”

John shifts the solid silicone in his hand and looks up at Arthur. 

“Now?” John asks quietly. 

“If you want.”

“... Yeah, if you can show me,” John whispers and lays back down, holding the toy over his belly and fidgeting with it. 

Arthur shifts and tugs the covers down a bit. 

“You’re gonna wanna use your fingers first,” Arthur murmurs, “Or let me.”

“You can.”

Arthur presses his lips together and scoots closer, settling his hand over John’s belly and tucking his fingertips under the waistband of John’s boxers. 

John shifts and squirms lightly, leaning closer to Arthur. 

The older man hesitates, for a moment, then slides his hand under the fabric and into the warmth, cupping John’s damp curls. 

“Jesus,” Arthur whispers, swallows, dips his fingers into John’s slit. 

John squirms again, legs flexing before splaying open, his knee laying on top of Arthur’s thigh. 

Arthur slides his fingers further and almost groans at the slick that coats them immediately, rubs through the wet heat, over John’s hole and up to the younger’s nub, toying with it lightly. 

John squeezes the toy in his hands and rocks his hips up into the touch. 

He’s rewarded with Arthur’s middle finger moving back down to his hole, circling and circling then pressing in. 

When John’s cunt clamps down around his finger Arthur does groan softly, feeling how tight John can be with just a _finger_ , imagining that slick vice around his cock. 

“Damn,” Arthur whispers, slides his finger in and out of John a couple times, pulling back out to play with John’s nub, “Do you ever finger yourself? You’re real tight.”

John just shakes his head, turns his face into Arthur’s shoulder. 

Arthur rubs over John’s nub until he feels the younger clenching and leaking more slick, moving down to catch it, coating his two middle fingers and working them inside John. 

Who moans, almost a whisper of a sound, his legs spreading open wider, walls gripping Arthur’s fingers, trying to pull them in deeper with each squeezing clench. 

Arthur swallows and tries to focus on spreading his fingers, stretching John open, rubbing along the walls and bringing a third to the edges of John’s hole. 

“Good?” 

And John nods quickly, his breath warming through Arthur’s sleeve in soft pants. 

Arthur starts working in his pointer finger and John rocks his hips into the stimulation. 

“Arthur,” John whispers and moves the toy down, pressing it against Arthur’s forearm. 

“... Hold on, John,” Arthur says hoarsely, “Let me…”

John just presses the toy harder against Arthur’s arm and suddenly the scent of _heat_ is so much stronger in the air around them. 

“Please?”

Arthur works a third finger into John and sits up a bit, taking the toy into his other hand. 

His cock is _aching_ in his jeans, painfully hard and his boxers are sticking to the head with the wet of his pre-come. 

He fucks his fingers into John as John starts to whine and beg, hips lifting into each thrust and Arthur’s almost stunned into silence. 

At just how eager the younger is, how John’s not being shy at all, breathing heavy and grinding himself onto Arthur’s fingers. 

Arthur pulls them out, slowly, then tugs at the waistband of John’s boxers. 

“Can we take these off?”

John looks up at him and his dark eyes are hot and hazy with want. 

John squirms away and struggles onto his knees, shoving his boxers down and looking at Arthur for a moment. 

Crawling closer and laying down on his side next to Arthur, tugging at Arthur’s shirt until the older man understands and lays down facing John. 

John shies just a bit with their faces so close and Arthur pulls the covers up over them with his clean hand. 

The younger presses his face against Arthur’s chest and Arthur guides his legs apart, reaching between them and hooking one of John’s thighs over his hip. 

“Gotta let me know if it’s too much, alright?”

“Yeah,” John whispers, “I know, please… Arthur.”

Arthur licks his lips and rubs the head of the toy through John’s slit, listening to the younger’s soft gasp. 

Pressing the tip to John’s hole when the shaft is slicked up, nudging it inside. 

John jerks against him lightly and Arthur pauses, worried. 

“Fuck,” John mutters, “Fuck, that’s the smallest?”

“Too much?”

“No… No it’s just…” John’s brows furrow, “It… It feels good?”

“... You sure?” Arthur whispers, “Thought I hurt you for a second.”

John slowly shakes his head. 

“Keep goin’,” John whispers, “Please.”

Arthur bites the inside of his lip and rests his cheek on top of John’s head, closing his eyes and moving by feel. 

Feeling the resistance of John clenching around the toy as he pushes it further in. 

Rocking it in and out lightly until he can slide it all the way to the base. 

John twitches against Arthur again when the head of the toy hits that tender spot inside him, reaching up and curling his hands in Arthur’s shirt.

“Still good?” Arthur whispers and presses his lips to John’s crown. 

John nods and just shifts for a moment, wiggling his hips and squeezing around the toy to feel that fullness. 

“Like the… The feelin’,” John mumbles, “Didn’t realize I did… Kinda avoided that. Playin’ inside.”

“Might be why the last one was so bad for you,” Arthur says quietly, “You’re… Your body’s wantin’ to be bred.”

John exhales shakily and nods. 

“Still doesn’t feel… Feels a lil’ odd,” John swallows and reaches down, nudging his fingertips against Arthur’s grip on the base of the toy, “Can I?”

“Yeah,” Arthur says quickly and moves his hand out of the way, “‘Course.”

John wraps his fingers around the base and wiggles again, pressing his forehead harder against Arthur’s sternum, curling his leg tighter over Arthur’s hip. 

Sliding the toy out and back in. 

Then tilting his hips a bit, trying to find that angle, repeating the movement. 

Breath hitching as he hits the tender spot dead on. 

Speeding up a bit and whining quietly, hugging himself close to Arthur as his hips start to jerk and he gets close. 

“There you go,” Arthur says hoarsely, “C’mon, Johnny.”

“Arthur,” John whispers shakily, “Nn… Alpha-”

Arthur groans and rubs his cheek against John’s hair as the younger cries out softly, gasping and shaking against the older man as he comes, seating the toy as deep inside him as he can. 

Understanding, now, how his body really is expecting to be bred when he finds himself waiting for the knot to lock inside him and his Alpha to fill him up. 

“Christ,” John whimpers and grabs at Arthur, “Fuck… S’not enough.”

“I know,” Arthur whispers, “Do you wanna try another-?”

“Want you,” John says weakly, “Want you to breed me.”

“... I still gotta wear a-” Arthur sighs softly, “Okay.”

“... Do you not wanna?” John whispers. 

Arthur’s quiet for a long moment and John’s stomach twists uncomfortably. 

John swallows and bites at the inside of his cheek. 

“I do,” Arthur says finally, “But… I don’t know if I can do this every time, for you, y’know? I wanna help but Mary…”

“You back together?” John asks shakily, “Are we-?”

“No, no, not right now…” Arthur sighs again, rougher, leans back, rubbing at his face, “You know how we are.”

John nods silently. 

“I think it’d be better if you could manage these on your own until you find an Alpha,” Arthur says slowly. 

John stares at the older man’s chest, nods again. 

“... God, Johnny,” Arthur whispers, reaches out and squeezes John’s hip, “Thinkin’ ‘bout bein’ inside you though, how sweet you smell, how tight you’d be, clenchin’ down on me.”

“I know you’re not _my_ Alpha,” John says quietly, “‘M not stupid.”

“... I didn’t mean-”

“I’m not gonna… I ain’t tryin’ to compete with her or anythin’,” John swallows roughly, closes his eyes, “Really want you to knot me.”

Just the crackling of the fire fills the room for a few minutes as John waits.

“Turn over,” Arthur whispers, “On your belly.”

John presses his lips together and turns over, folding his arms under his head and keeping his eyes closed. 

The covers are pulled off him and cool air bathes over his ass and thighs. 

“God, Johnny,” Arthur whispers as fabric rustles and foil crinkles, “You’re soaked.”

Arthur’s fingers curl around his hips and his ass is pulled up until he’s kneeling, presenting for Arthur. 

The older man grabbing the base of the toy and rocking it into John a few times. 

Then pulling it out, John clenching around nothing as he’s left empty. 

“You really gotta tell me if I hurt you, alright?” Arthur murmurs and his warmth presses down on John’s back, the foreign feeling of latex rubbing against his hole, “I mean it, don’t hesitate to tell me.”

John nods against his arms, feels the head of Arthur’s cock against his hole and makes a small sound of surprise. 

It is bigger, than the first toy, bigger than anything he’s ever had inside of himself. 

“Just gonna rub you a bit, tease you, yeah?” Arthur whispers and kisses next to John’s claiming spot, “Want you real slick.”

And his arm wraps under John’s belly, fingers sliding over John’s nub and pinching, stroking, circling. 

John tenses up then goes lax under Arthur, sinking down into the mattress and moaning softly. 

As Arthur’s cockhead barely nudges inside of him, pulls out, keeps repeating that while Arthur’s rubbing him, gettin him to clench and drip slick on the sheets. 

Then the head of Arthur’s cock pops in and John makes a strangled sound at the fullness. 

“Good?” Arthur asks shakily. 

“Yeah,” John whispers, “... You bigger than that big toy?”

“Same, just ‘bout,” Arthur huffs a soft laugh but it’s cut off by a weak moan when John’s cunt squeezes around him, “Fuck, Johnny, feels so good.”

“S’that on purpose?” John whispers, “Gettin’ me a toy the same as you?”

“... Maybe,” Arthur admits quietly, “Even before I offered, picked that one… Was thinkin’ ‘bout it.”

John curses softly and rocks back. 

Arthur indulges him by pushing in another inch and John marvels at the stretch. 

Then another inch, and another. 

Gently, slowly easing himself into John until the head of his cock is nestled against John’s cervix and John’s trembling under him. 

Arthur lays his front along John’s back and wraps his arms around the younger’s middle, holding John tightly. 

“Why don’t you rub yourself off a lil’,” Arthur murmurs, “Just get used to me.”

“Close already,” John admits shakily, “Bein’ so full.”

“... Wanna feel it,” Arthur whispers back and squeezes John, “Feel you comin’ on my cock.”

John whimpers and reaches down to rub himself as Arthur’s hands shuck up his sweatshirt and rub soothingly over his lower belly. 

The first time his walls clench around Arthur has both of them groaning, Arthur at the tight squeezing around his cock and John at the fact that he can barely clench at all, Arthur so hard and such a snug fit inside of him his legs tremble. 

He circles his nub and turns his face to get some air as his face burns, hips jerking lightly, and Arthur’s cock minutely dragging against his walls. 

John clenches again, not involuntarily, but wanting to feel that fullness, breathes out roughly, clenches again. 

Tilts his hips and rocks back, so the head of Arthur’s head is pressing against that tender spot like the toy had earlier. 

Clenches again, squeezing down around Arthur cock and shivering, whimpering. 

“Fuck, John-” Arthur grits his teeth then groans softly, his hips twitching forward, “Jesus, darlin’, you doin’ that on purpose?”

John nods, keeps rhythmically clenching around Arthur’s cock as slick starts dripping out of him. 

Arthur’s breathing heavily against his neck, pressing his hand harder into John’s belly. 

And John’s hips jerk, his eyes watering as he starts to come, pulsing now around Arthur without control, squirming and gasping, rocking back over and over to keep that high going, fingers faltering on his nub. 

Arthur growls softly and starts rocking his hips, pulling out just to push back in, bottom out, repeating the movement. 

Starting to really fuck into John as the younger’s still pulsing around him, aiming for that sweet spot just to force John back up to that edge, grinding deep into the younger and feeling John’s legs tense and flex as the younger struggles to hold himself up. 

“Arthur-” John whispers, “I- I’m-”

“C’mon,” Arthur murmurs. 

“It- I’m-” John trembles and squirms then whimpers sharply as each thrust forces him to gush a thinner come with his slick, clamping down hard on Arthur’s cock. 

The older man groans loudly and sits up to look down at his cock disappearing into John. 

“Yeah, there you go,” Arthur says roughly, looking at the mess John’s made, “There you go, baby.”

John makes another weak sound and his back arches further. 

“Please,” John manages shakily. 

“Gon’ knot you up, don’t worry.”

John nods and tries to hold himself up as Arthur speeds up, his mouth falling open to let free little, broken sounds of pleasure with each deep knock inside of him. 

Until he feels Arthur’s knot swelling, starting to stretch him even more and he’s rendered speechless. 

Just breathing shakily and his gut burning, cunt pulsing as he starts to come again. 

Feeling Arthur thrust in once, deep, seating himself and his knot locking them together. 

Arthur groans and curses softly, leaning down and pressing his lips to John’s neck, ear, cheek, jaw, every patch of bare skin he can reach. 

John’s only held up by Arthur holding him around the middle, too weak to even try.

The younger brows furrow as his body sings with the satisfaction of being _bred_ , his Alpha’s knot and seed inside of him. 

Groaning weakly and moving his hand up to squeeze Arthur’s wrist. 

“Can- Lay down?” John whispers.

“Slow,” Arthur warns him and gently lowers them both to the mattress then turns them onto their sides, moving one arm up above John’s head and the other hand to John’s hip. 

Listening to the younger’s labored breathing. 

“Hey,” Arthur whispers and slides his hand up John’s belly to the younger’s sternum. 

John just mumbles tiredly in response. 

“You hurtin’ at all?”

“No.”

Arthur rests his forehead against the back of John’s shoulder and hugs the younger tightly to himself, letting John rest as they wait for his knot to deflate. 

\--

John had a sneaking suspicion of what had happened but it’s confirmed when Arthur can finally slide out and his cock is followed by slick and seed. 

“Shit,” Arthur says sharply and kneels.

John lifts his head to look at the mess as he rolls onto his back and his slit is coated with his own come and Arthur’s. 

“Shit,” Arthur mutters, “Shit, c’mon.”

Helping John up, but practically carrying the younger to the bathroom, setting John on the counter, cursing under his breath the entire time as he gets a washcloth damp. 

Nudges John’s legs open and wipes at the younger’s slit, John squirming, at the cold, at the rough fabric with how sensitive he is. 

“John,” Arthur barks out and John freezes with fear at the anger in the older man’s voice. 

Arthur cleans him out as best as he can and it’s uncomfortable, the rough cloth too scratchy, Arthur’s movements too hurried.

Arthur’s hands on him stop and he seems to notice John’s trembling now for another reason. 

“Sorry,” John mutters and tries to hold himself still, hands clenched into fists on either side of his hips, drawing his lower lip into his mouth and worrying the dry skin with his teeth. 

“... Not your fault,” Arthur says then sighs, “I told you I didn’t wanna risk- It’s not…”

John nods his understanding but can’t quite stop himself from flinching when Arthur straightens up. 

“... John.”

“I’ll… I’ll go up to the doctor,” John whispers, “Just in case.”

“... Okay,” Arthur mumbles and toss the rag into the sink, rubbing his forearm over his face, looking at John critically, “... You don’t smell like heat anymore.”

John’s brows furrow and he looks up at Arthur, then back down at himself, slowly shrugging, frowning. 

“Ah… John, shit, I’m sorry,” Arthur rubs at his face again, looking tired and frustrated, then drops his arms and moves to wash his hands. 

“It broke,” John says, but he sounds uncertain. 

“Think so,” Arthur mutters and dries off his hands, moves to stand in front of John, “... Didn’t mean to scare you.”

“S’fine,” John swallows and shrugs, “I get you don’t…”

Arthur’s hand comes up and the older man’s frowning as he wipes John’s lower lip, coming away with blood. 

“You want me to go turn the hot water on?” Arthur asks quietly and John nods, “Okay, I’ll go do that, you wanna get a kettle on the stove?”

“Yeah,” John mumbles, “Thanks.”

\--

John gets some water heating on the woodstove and rummages around for clean sheets, getting the bed changed since he’s not sure they’ll be doing anything else and he really doesn’t feel like sleeping on wet sheets.

Hears Arthur coming back up the steps and heads back to the bathroom, digging out the towels and soaps from under the sink. 

Arthur makes a rough noise, shivering as he dusts snow off his shoulders and kicks off his boots. 

“Started snowin’,” He calls to John. 

“No shit, really?” John peeks out around the doorway, “Wasn’t on the forecast.”

“Just flurryin’ and I couldn’t see the thermometer but I’d guess it’s about twenty.”

“Jeez,” John shifts and fidgets, crossing his arms. 

His sweatshirt’s long enough it covers his crotch but he still feels a little awkward walking around with nothing underneath. 

“Well, give that a couple minutes,” Arthur gestures towards the bathroom, the bathtub really, “You want soup?”

“Yeah, please.”

Arthur nods and moves around the corner into the kitchen and John keeps the door open to the bathroom as he messes with the bathtub, wipes it down and gets the plug in. 

“You gonna join me?” John calls out to Arthur and his heart races at the idea, for whatever reason, the thought of bathing with Arthur somehow much more intimate than them fucking. 

There’s a pause in the clattering of ceramics then-

“Do you want me to?”

John stares at the tub, it’s plenty big enough, this monstrous thing Dutch had splurged on when building the cabin, deep enough to be a soaker tub but large enough to fit three or four people. 

“Yeah,” John calls back.

\--

John slips off his sweatshirt when the water’s high enough and steps in, sinking down and pushing himself to the other side, sitting back against the warm stone. 

Looking up as Arthur walks in with two mugs. 

Pausing before he hands one down to John. 

“Still want me to join?” Arthur asks quietly. 

John nods readily and blows on the soup before taking small sips. 

Watching Arthur undress. 

Not consciously, or with any intention of leering, just… Watching. 

Then he notices that Arthur’s jeans have dried slick on them and drops his gaze to his mug. 

Arthur groans softly at the welcome relief of the hot water as he climbs in, grabbing his own mug at the last moment, moving to sit catty-corner to John. 

“You feelin’ alright?” Arthur asks before taking a sip and immediately grimacing, sticking his tongue out lightly when he burns it.

“Mostly sleepy.”

“Yeah… But- Uh… Heated, at all?”

John thinks about it for a moment and wobbles his head uncertainly. 

“Alright… Think we should stay out here for another day?”

“Did you wanna head back?”

“Honestly?” Arthur huffs, “No.”

“... Who knows?” John shrugs and catches Arthur’s eyes, “Could start up again.”

Arthur rolls his eyes but John catches the sly smile before Arthur’s blowing on his own soup. 

\--

John has a pit in his stomach, walking into the ranch after getting back from the doctor. 

He feels awkward and uncomfortable even almost an hour later, holding himself tightly as he heads to the kitchen to grab a drink. 

It’s close enough to five. 

Leaning down and digging out a beer from low in the fridge, turning and rummaging through the junk drawer for a lighter, grabbing his pack and an ashtray then heading out to the section of the back deck where he’s most likely to be alone. 

Sitting on the steps and popping open the can, lighting up. 

Cradling his head in his palm and resting his elbow on his knee. 

Digging his thumb into his temple as he holds the cigarette and can in his other hand. 

“... I’ll take this as a good sign?” Arthur says from a couple yards away and John lifts his head tiredly to see the older man pulling a cart of feed behind him, frowning when he sees how miserable John looks, “Or not. You okay?”

John just looks at him for a moment and shrugs, dropping his gaze to his lap. 

He listens to the older man shuffling, then the cart creaking as the handle is locked and Arthur abandons it to come closer. 

Sitting down on the steps next to John.

“... John?” Arthur whispers, “How much trouble we in?”

“S’not… I ain’t _pregnant_ ,” John says in a rough whisper, pointedly taking a drag from the cigarette then passing it to Arthur and sipping his beer instead. 

Arthur just holds it for a moment, studying John. 

“Are you… Ah-” Arthur grimaces and shifts, takes a drag, “You upset?”

“What?”

“That… That it didn’t take?”

“No… Not-” John huffs and rubs at his eyes as they water. 

“John… I’m sorry, yeah? I know it’s not ideal bein’ with me when I’m courtin’ another Omega but we-”

“You’re courtin’ her?”

“... Yeah, have been for ‘bout two years.”

“I know you been together but you… You mean _courtin’?_ Serious?”

“Yeah.”

“Oh.”

“So… I can see why that might be upsettin’ but I don’t think we’d-”

“I ain’t upset ‘cause…” John says roughly then swallows thickly, staring down at his boots, “They said I _can’t.”_

“... What?”

“Can’t be bred… That it’ll never take, there are… My body doesn’t have all the parts, or make the right stuff,” John whispers, “Said that’d be why my heats’ll never be easy.”

Arthur goes very quiet next to him, then taps off the ash and hands the cig back to John, who sniffs and takes it. 

Then Arthur sighs and squeezes John’s knee tightly. 

“I’m sorry, Johnny,” Arthur says gently. 

John shrugs unevenly and just stares at Arthur’s hand on his knee. 

“I don’t know what else to say,” Arthur murmurs, “That’s a hard thing to hear.”

“I’m fine,” John whispers, “... I’m fine.”

Arthur’s hand squeezes his knee tighter then moves up to the back of John’s head, pulling the younger into a sideways hug. 

\--

“You should go out more.”

“Like that’d help,” John mutters darkly. 

“John.”

“Just drop it, Arthur.”

“... You know I’m back with Mary now.”

John tenses with his back to the older man. 

“Yeah.”

“... Your heat’s comin’ up.”

“I know.”

“John, c’mon, don’t do this, I’m tryna talk ‘bout this,” Arthur says and he reaches over to poke at John’s shoulder, trying to get the younger to face him.

“Knock it off,” John says sharply and shoves Arthur’s hand away, “Okay? I understand. You don’t want me. You ain’t gonna help me. Okay? That it?”

Arthur sighs quietly and the sound is exasperated, like John’s the problem here. 

Not like he didn’t already know that. 

It makes his chest burn, the hurt festering there. 

“You don’t gotta explain it like I’m a fuckin’ kid,” John mutters and hangs the broom back up before turning to grab the bucket of tack that needs to be cleaned and re-organized. 

“You’re actin’ like one.”

“Yet you still fucked me.”

Arthur goes very quiet and John can feel the anger rolling off the older man. 

“Just drop it,” John says as evenly as he can, “Please.”

“I’ll put those toys in your room.”

“Okay,” John whispers, swallows and sits down on a turned-over bucket, tentatively looking up at Arthur, “Thanks.”

Arthur glances at him from where he’s brushing out one of the guest horses, a black and white pinto named Bean. 

He doesn’t say anything and moves around to the other side of the horse where John can only see his legs and the top of his hat. 

\--

It’s more miserable than his first heat, and he’s not really sure why. 

He has the toy that’s just like Arthur, hasn’t quite gotten the courage to try it or think about the likeness, compare it to his memory. 

Instead he’s using the medium toy, sliding it in and out slow and steady then working the knot in, whimpering. 

“Shit,” John whispers and closes his eyes, pulling the covers tighter around himself, “Arthur.”

Biting his lip when he realizes what he just said, clenching his jaw and shoving the knot in the rest of the way, unkindly. 

Breath catching as he twitches and lets go of the toy, turning onto his stomach to smother himself in the pillows. 

\--

John curses and drops the bucket he’s carrying to sit against one of the stalls, cradling his head as it aches. 

It’s been well over a week since he ran out of smokes, and there’s still another week until he gets paid. 

He’s been drinking too much, smoking _way_ too much. 

Lucky that Dutch considers the evening communal dinner as part of their room and board ‘cause he’s not sure he could deal with these withdrawals on an empty stomach as well. 

The bill from the doctor had been an unpleasant but expected thing, the total cost, however, was more of a surprise. 

He’s really not sure why blood tests cost so fucking much. 

John drags his hand down his face and rubs at his stomach, turning to look at the clock on the wall then slumping back against the wood with his eyes closed tight. 

There’s still three hours until supper’s called. 

“You sleepin’ on the job?”

John lifts his head to look up and back at Arthur, glowering at the older man. 

Arthur quirks a brow at the hostility and raises his hands innocently, moving around John to hang up the bridle in his hands. 

John schools his expression quickly and struggles to his feet. 

“... You got a smoke?” John asks quietly, almost immediately regretting it when Arthur frowns at him. 

“What, you run out?”

John drops his gaze to the ground and nods slowly. 

Arthur huffs and makes a helpless gesture. 

“I don’t got any on me.”

“... Okay.”

“You’re goin’ through ‘em too fast, just go up to the corner store.”

“... Yeah.”

Arthur eyes him critically at the tone and John fidgets with his jacket. 

“What?” Arthur asks tiredly. 

“What?” John echoes, sounding confused. 

“What’s up with you? You forget how to drive or somethin’?” Arthur turns towards him and crosses his arms, adopting his best impression of Hosea’s ‘interrogation stance’, “Run outta gas?”

“... Ran outta money,” John whispers. 

“For Christ’s sake, John,” Arthur growls and rubs his eyes, “How old are you? What’d you blow it on?”

John sucks on his cheeks as his chest does that firey aching again, not liking Arthur’s ire so pointedly aimed at him. 

He hates disappointing the older man, and it’s all he’s done lately. 

“It’s fine,” John mutters, “I’ll be fine.”

“I don’t care if you’ll be fine, John,” Arthur steps closer and John’s heels hit the baseboard when he steps back in response, “What the hell’d you blow it on?”

“... Doctor,” John says thickly, closing his eyes. 

Arthur makes a rough sound and John flinches back, every instinct in his body telling him to cower or run from the angry Alpha in front of him. 

“Jesus,” Arthur mutters, “John… C’mon, not gonna hurt you. I’m sorry.”

John shakes his head then lifts his hands to hold his temples when his head throbs. 

“You gotta cut back, kid,” Arthur says roughly but his hands are gentle as he pulls John away from the wall and steadies him, “Go up to my room, there’s a couple packs in my nightstand, top drawer, alright? Go grab one.”

\--

“A _pack_ , John, I meant go grab a _pack_ , not a single cigarette, you fool,” Arthur says under his breath as he sits down next to John at dinner and shoves a new pack into John’s lap. 

John catches it before it can slide off his lap when Arthur’s hand withdraws and the older man eyes him sideways on the bench. 

Then shakes his head and bumps their shoulders together. 

\--

“Hey,” Arthur says quietly as John turns around the corner and they almost run into each other. 

“Hey, Art,” John mumbles tiredly, rubbing the towel against the side of his damp hair. 

“... I wanna talk to you,” Arthur says and slings his arm around John’s shoulders, pulling the younger along with him towards his room. 

“Can it wait?" John groans, “‘M tired.”

“Just, c’mon.”

\--

“... I talked to Mary,” Arthur says slowly and John looks up at him from sitting on the edge of Arthur’s bed, frowning.

“Okay.”

“About you.”

“... _Okay.”_

Arthur taps his fingertips together nervously and leans back on his dresser. 

“She said she’d understand if I helped you with your heats… As long as I didn’t make it obvious.”

“... Arthur,” John says slowly, “Spit it out.”

“If you want,” Arthur says quietly, “I can help you.”

John shifts on the bed and frowns up at him, then down at the floor. 

“You seemed upset, last time,” Arthur whispers, “When you came back.”

“Yeah, well… Becomin’ the theme.”

“Then let me help you.”

“Why do you _want_ to?” John brings his leg up and rests his chin on his knee, hugging his leg to his chest and frowning up at Arthur. 

Arthur’s eyes skirt away from his and John feels his stomach flip, watching Arthur’s cheeks turn pink. 

“Got a couple reasons.”

“Yeah? One of them that she won’t let you?”

“John,” Arthur warns quietly, “No. That _ain’t_ an issue, actually.”

And John doesn’t know how to feel about that, not sure if he’s more or less upset. 

“... Don’t like seein’ you upset,” Arthur mumbles after the tense silence sits between them for too long. 

“And you breedin’ me would help?”

“... I still don’t know about- Without-” Arthur shifts his weight and gestures at John, “She had a couple rules.”

John sighs and rubs at his eyes, unfolding to flop back on Arthur’s bed. 

“Y’know… Since there’s no risk of you… That’s fine, but she doesn’t want me markin’ you at all, or comin’ round smellin’ like you.”

“So, how are you supposed to help me without smellin’ like me?”

“... Just, bein’ careful,” Arthur says awkwardly, “When… When you come like _that_ , smells ‘lot stronger with your heat, smells a _lot_ like you, _Omega_.”

“... Okay.”

“Other than that, shouldn’t be any different than showerin’ and givin’ it a day.”

John rubs at his face slowly. 

“Only got a week or two.”

“I know, s’why I wanted to talk now.”

“Can I go sleep now?”

“Do… Do you want me to help?”

“Yeah,” John mutters and sits up, looking up at Arthur, “Yes.”

\-- 

John’s heat starts early-morning, real sudden, and he struggles to get his shit together while Arthur gets everything else, still wearing his pajamas. 

When he climbs into the truck and he’s closed into a space that only smells like his Alpha, it’s driving him up the wall, immediately. 

He wants to climb into Arthur’s lap and ride the older man, have him knot him and breed him right here in front of the ranch in full view of any who’d pass. 

“Jesus, John, the hell’re you thinkin’ ‘bout?” Arthur asks, and it’s strangled as he puts the truck in drive. 

“Bein’ in your lap,” John murmurs and slips his hand between his thighs, just cupping himself, trying to ease some of that hot ache, “Bein’ bred.”

Arthur makes a low noise and John closes his eyes, turning on the bench and curling up slightly. 

“Thinkin’ ‘bout bein’ watched,” John whispers, feeling hazier than his past few heats, “Bein’ claimed, like they used to.”

“What?” Arthur asks hoarsely, “Like in public?”

“Mm.”

“God,” Arthur whispers. 

“Want ‘em all to see how good I take your knot,” John holds back a whimper and rubs himself more firmly, “Yeah?”

“... Shit,” Arthur mutters, “Yeah, Johnny, you take it real well.”

John breathes out shakily and slides his fingers under his waistband. 

Turning his face into the back of the bench and sliding two inside himself, already soaked with slick. 

Losing himself to chasing some bit of relief, his gut burning with his heat, mind foggy with the need. 

\--

“John,” Arthur murmurs, “C’mon, Johnny, we’re here.”

“Please,” John whispers and squirms when he’s picked up, “Alpha.”

“I know, baby, s’alright, c’mon.”

He shifts lightly with each step and clings to Arthur. 

Then the older man’s sitting down on the edge of the bed with John in his lap, trying to coax the younger into laying down but John just presses closer, spreads his legs wide on either side of Arthur’s hips and rocks against the older man’s bulge. 

They’re both wearing soft pants and he can feel the shape of Arthur’s cock more clearly this time, feels when Arthur’s length is aligned with his slit and he can grind against it. 

Arthur’s breathing quietly under his ear and his hands slide down to John’s ass. 

“Please,” John whispers again, “Breed me.”

“John,” Arthur says thickly, “Gotta open you up n’ everythin’, darlin’. You gotta lay down.” 

John makes a frustrated sound and sits up, yanking his layers of shirts off then grabbing Arthur’s shoulders and pressing his lips to the older man’s roughly. 

Arthur goes stiff against him, hands sliding up to his waist and fidgeting like he’s gonna move John back. 

“John,” Arthur pulls back and whispers against his lips. 

“Please, Alpha,” John begs hoarsely and Arthur groans quietly, cock twitching under John. 

Then he’s kissing John and standing up, holding the younger as he walks them to the nearest wall, pinning John to the logs, kissing the younger soundly, biting at John’s lips and growling low in his chest. 

John trembles against him and struggles with his pajama pants, trying to push them off, wanting his Alpha inside him. 

“Slow down," Arthur whispers against his lips then pulls back, gently setting John's legs down, "Let's get these off, alright?" 

And he pulls John's pajama pants down his legs leaving John bare with nothing underneath. 

Arthur crouches and helps John step out of each leg and the younger just watches him, chest rising and falling deeply with each breath. 

Arthur's hands curl gently around his thighs and nudge his legs apart, the older man kneeling on the floor at his feet. 

"Arthur," John whispers hoarsely, "What are you-?"

"Wanna taste you," Arthur leans in and presses his forehead to the top of one of John's thighs, "You smell so sweet."

John squirms when his leg is guided over Arthur's shoulder and the older man's looking up at him, mouth pressing between John's thighs. 

Tongue dragging over his soaked cunt and Arthur groaning against him. 

Growling. 

Closing his eyes and pressing harder, licking and sucking at John's cunt and nub until John's trembling above him. 

"Art-" John whispers, "Knot."

Arthur growls against him again and pulls back, wiping his face on his sleeve and licking his lips and John can't manage more than staring. 

"Get on the bed," Arthur murmurs, his hands rubbing up John's sides as the older man stands. 

Eyeing John curiously when the younger doesn't move. 

"Wanna be in your lap," John whispers.

Arthur blinks at him and visibly swallows, but nods, steps back and looks at the door to the cabin. 

"Should I go grab those-"

"I don't want them, want you," John says thickly, "Want _you_ , Alpha."

Arthur closes his eyes and nods again, then grabs John's hands and walks backwards to the bed, crawling on to sit in the middle against the headboard and guiding John into his lap. 

"Like this?" Arthur whispers. 

John settles his legs widely on either side of Arthur's hips and rocks down against the older man. 

There's a bit of possessiveness, jealously, knowing he's getting slick on Arthur's pants, foolishly hoping that somehow Mary would know. 

John tucks himself against Arthur and reaches down between them to tug at Arthur's waistband. 

"Shh, hey, hold on," Arthur whispers, holding John's waist as he leans over to grab a condom from within the nightstand and John hadn't realized Arthur had left some here.

John drops his head against Arthur's shoulder roughly in disappointment. 

"Why can't we-" John whispers, "It won't _take_."

"I know… But that's somethin' you're only supposed to do with an Omega you've claimed, or are gonna claim," Arthur says and gently squeezes John's hip. 

And John thought that he'd be fine with this, logically, and when he's not in heat he's not so stupid with the desire to be claimed. 

To _be_ Arthur's. 

John nods weakly against Arthur's shoulder and the older man sets the condom next to them on the bed before sliding a hand between John's thighs, rubbing over the younger's slit then slipping two fingers into John. 

John just whimpers quietly and wraps his arms around Arthur's shoulders, hugging himself to the older man tightly. 

Arthur's slower, this time, gentle with his touches and deliberate, stroking along John's walls just to get him to clamp down and squirm, rubbing his thumb against John's nub. 

Feeling slick dripping down his fingers and still tasting that lingering sweetness on his tongue. 

John starts lightly kissing and mouthing and biting at his neck and it makes Arthur shiver. 

"What're you doin'?" Arthur whispers. 

"Sorry," John whispers and pulls his mouth away, bringing one hand up to cover his mouth to stop himself, "Sorry."

Arthur sighs quietly and adds a third finger while John squirms against him and muffles his smallest sounds yet. 

His weakest, neediest, most heart-tugging sounds yet. 

Arthur has to use everything in his willpower to not pursue John as _his_ Alpha. 

"Wait, wait," John whispers urgently as he's clenching around Arthur's fingers and his thighs tremble, "Stop."

Arthur stills his fingers and makes a questioning sound. 

"I- I can't-" John legs try to close around Arthur's hand, "You said I can't come like that."

"... You close?" Arthur whispers. 

"Yeah- But I-" John squirms and presses his forehead into Arthur's neck, "Shit- I can't, if you keep goin'..."

Arthur frowns and slips his fingers out of John. 

"I don't know if- If you knot me-" John whispers, "I can't- Gonna make a mess."

Arthur's quiet as his clean hand ghosts over John's spine and John exhales shakily. 

"Outside?" John whispers. 

"I gotta stretch you if… If you want me to knot you."

"Yeah I do, but you said I can't come like that," John swallows thickly and shakes his head, "I thought I could hold off."

"... Could you wait until after?" Arthur asks quietly.

"What?"

"Let me stretch you, and knot you, but hold off on comin' 'til after?" 

"... I don't know." 

"... Here, let me up, I'll go grab those toys and you can use those instead of-"

"No-" John whispers quickly, "No… I'll hold off."

"You sure?"

"I- I can try," John whispers shakily, "Please? Want you."

Arthur swallows and nods and his fingers slip back inside John, avoiding the younger's nub or that tender spot entirely. 

Just focusing on stretching John open. 

John bites the meat of his thumb and closes his eyes tightly, trying his damnedest to not clench or rock his hips. 

Arthur adds a fourth finger and John can't hold back the shaky sound he makes. 

The older man squeezes his waist and John bites his hand harder. 

"Lift up a bit," Arthur whispers and his fingers slip out. 

John sits back and holds himself up as Arthur shoves his pants and boxers down. 

He's hard, cock dripping pre-come and John sits back on the older man's thighs as Arthur wipes himself off and slides the condom on. 

Arthur's hands curl around his hips and guide him close. 

"Okay?" Arthur whispers, and John nods quickly. 

The head of Arthur's cock presses against his hole and John moves his hands to Arthur's shoulders, sitting up straight and looking at Arthur tentatively. 

"You gonna be able to hold off?" 

"I will," John says firmly. 

And Arthur nods, gently tugs down on John's hips until his cock pops inside and John gasps, fingers digging into Arthur's shoulders. 

John's eyes close tightly and he bites his lower lip as he lowers himself, sinking down on Arthur's cock until he bottoms out. 

"Jesus," John whispers, "Feels bigger."

Arthur snorts quietly and nudges his knuckles against John's thigh. 

John slowly lifts himself up, clenching lightly when he gets to the tip, then sinking back down. 

Arthur groans softly and leans his head back against the headboard, hands petting over John's thighs and hips. 

When John opens his eyes Arthur's watching him, watching as the younger starts bouncing himself on Arthur's cock. 

"Lookit you," Arthur whispers, "God, Johnny."

John feels himself flustering and drops his gaze to Arthur's shirt. 

"Is-Is this good 'nough?" John asks shakily. 

"Hm?" 

"Can you knot me from this?" 

"Yeah… Yeah, darlin'," Arthur whispers, "Remember what you did last time? Squeezin' round me like that?" 

John swallows and nods and tries to steel himself as he clenches around Arthur, gritting his teeth when the older man's cock resists inside him, pressing out on all sides and making him feel even fuller. 

"Just like that," Arthur says hoarsely, "There you go."

John steadies himself on Arthur's shoulders and tries to clench with some intention as he's bouncing himself, whimpering quietly when his nub starts throbbing, aching for attention. 

"Feels so good, John," Arthur whispers and groans softly, rocking his hips up as John comes down, "Just like that, keep goin' n' I'll knot you proper."

John closes his eyes tightly and lowers one hand to press into his belly as he leaks slick around Arthur and feels the older man's knot swelling. 

Sucking in a sharp breath when Arthur shifts and the angle changes, the head of Arthur's cock rubbing along the tender spot inside him when he sinks down. 

"Oh… _Fuck_ ," John moans and curls up, trying to tilt his own hips to counterbalance that good pressure, knowing he'll come if it keeps going. 

John squirms and shifts his knees under him, spreading his legs a little more where he's straddling Arthur. 

Sinking down slowly and clenching hard around Arthur's knot as it swells. 

Pulling up just a bit and repeating it, moving a bit faster, a bit rougher, Arthur's cock knocking his cervix and making him whimper between each breath. 

"Shit," Arthur whispers and squeezes his hips, fucking up into him a couple times then pulling him down tightly as his knot locks them together. 

Groaning and his cock jerking inside John, filling the condom up. 

John breathes unsteadily and presses harder into his lower belly, tipping forward and letting his forehead rest on Arthur's shoulder. 

"Art-" John whispers. 

"Mm?" 

John wants to tell him it hurts, holding back his orgasm, when all his body wants is his Alpha's seed and that euphoria of coming around the thick knot inside of him. 

John just shakes his head and wraps his arm around Arthur's shoulders, hiding his face. 

"Such a good boy, John," Arthur whispers, "Perfect lil' Omega."

John just tries to breathe, tries not to clamp down around Arthur's knot. 

Perfect little Omega for an Alpha that doesn't want him. 

John's brows furrow and he rubs at his belly again as his gut aches. 

"Wanna…" John whispers then breaks off, shakes his head again, his eyes burning. 

"What?" Arthur murmurs and rubs up his back. 

"Hurts," John admits finally into the quiet between them, his breath catching, "Need to come." 

"... I know, Johnny," Arthur whispers and tries to soothe his hands over John's thighs, "I know, hold on."

"I don't like this," John whispers shakily, "Hurts." 

Arthur's quiet for a moment then sighs quietly. 

"Yeah… Maybe this was stupid." 

John sucks in a breath and hides his face harder. 

"You- You don't even want me," John whispers and curls up tighter, grimacing and shifting, "You just wanna fuck."

"John," Arthur protests quietly, "C'mon, I'm tryin' to help but Mary-"

"You don't wanna claim me, don't wanna breed me, won't let me come," John says shakily, "The fuck's the point. You ain't _helpin_ '."

He can feel Arthur getting upset, angry. 

"John, don't accuse me of usin’-" 

"I'm just saying the _truth_ , if that's accusin' you of somethin' then-" 

"Why would I want you?" Arthur asks sharply, "Why _would_ I claim you? Why _would_ I waste breedin' you when you can't even have pups? I got a _good_ Omega, John, I ain't gonna ruin that for _you_."

John feels his heat breaking this time, feels it when he goes cold and everything hurts. 

Nothing feeling warm or good anymore. 

He can smell his own scent souring with hurt and holds himself silent as he starts to tremble.

Arthur's knot inside him aches, his head throbbing as he feels tears tracking down his cheeks. 

Arthur tenses below him and the hands on his back leave, then return, fretful as they move up to John's shoulders, gently push the younger back. 

"John…" Arthur says slowly, "I didn't mean that…"

John just shakes his head, trying not to move at all or make any sound. 

He wants to run, but he has to _wait_. 

"John, seriously," Arthur says and his hands cup John's face, rub away the tears leaking from John's eyes, "Johnny, please, I'm sorry."

John doesn't respond, just biding his time, waiting for Arthur's knot to deflate. 

Arthur keeps whispering apologies and trying to get him to react but as soon as he feels Arthur's knot slipping out of him he yanks away and shoves himself off the bed, picking up his clothes as he goes and slipping into the bathroom, locking the door. 

"John?" Arthur calls after him and there's quiet cursing, footsteps, the door handle jiggling, "John?"

"Go away," John says hoarsely.

"... C'mon, don't do this, come out here."

"No. I mean it Arthur," John says thickly, "Leave. I don't want you neither."

Arthur makes a quiet, mournful sound and John can tell he's leaning against the door as John sits in the dark bathroom. 

"C'mon, kid, please?" Arthur whispers, "'Least let me drive you back?"

"I'd rather _walk_ ," John says roughly. 

Arthur's quiet for a moment then taps his fist on the doorframe a couple times before moving away. 

John finds the tub in the dark and sits on the edge of it, staring into the black and listening. 

Hearing Arthur shuffling around then the front door opening, not closing. 

John frowns and waits. 

Arthur's steps go down the stairs, come back up, and there's a fabric thump in front of the bathroom floor. 

"Leavin' your bag here," Arthur says quietly.

John stays silent. 

Hears Arthur sigh again then this time the door closes, Arthur's footsteps descend and he hears the truck starting up, pulling away. 

Fading, into the forest. 

John scrubs roughly at his burning eyes then shuffles to open the door, staring down at his bag on the floor. 

\--

He drags a couple blankets and a pillow out onto the balcony and sleeps under the clear sky. 

Or, lays, unsleeping, for hours. 

Thinking, waiting, planning. 

He's saved almost the entirety of every paycheck since that medical bill, only barely spending enough to buy some food and smokes. 

He has plenty, to leave. 

To skip over a couple towns, find work on another ranch. 

His truck is paid off… He's got enough. 

John stares up at the stars and the sliver of a moon. 

Makes up his mind. 

\-- 

Over two weeks John manages to sell the majority of his _things_. 

Records, books, knick-knacks he's collected, any clothes he can't fit between his two duffles. 

He doesn't want anything weighing him down. 

Arthur's avoiding him and that's fine with him, it makes it easier anyway. 

He's not sure how to tell Dutch, so he writes a letter explaining that he's leaving and he's not sure he'll be back. That Dutch can keep his latest pay to find another hand. 

That he's grateful for everyone. 

His room's barren by the time he's done, cleaned out under the assumption that it'll be afforded to whoever replaces him. 

John leaves the letter on Dutch's desk and grabs every possession he can rightfully call his from the barn. 

The saddle with his initials, the matching bridle.

His gloves and coat and work boots. 

Everything he has left fits comfortably in the passenger seat of his truck. 

And when he sits behind the wheel at dawn on a cool Sunday morning he's resolute in his decision to leave. 

So, he pulls out of the driveway and heads for the gas station first, where he'll top up, grab a coffee, a newspaper to look for jobs. 

And he'll be on his way.

\--

\--

\--

\--

The absolute last person Arthur’s expecting to see walking into their New Year’s Eve party is John fucking Marston. 

Longer hair, and some nasty gashes on the side of his face, held closed with stitches. 

Looking a little older, thinner, harder. 

A certain weariness about him and a limp. 

And he’s walking in, guided under Dutch’s arm around his shoulders. 

Arthur feels frozen, furious-

Guilty. 

John's eyes are flicking around the room, catching on the familiar faces and the new, then he’s shaking his head and turning towards Dutch when the older man gestures questioningly at the room. 

Arthur starts making his way closer, can just hear John’s voice and it’s gotten even more hoarse, deeper.

“-Don’t want nothin’ dramatic, Dutch. Just glad you let me come back and-”

“Of course, John, you know there’s always a place for you here. In fact, I’m fairly sure your room’s still empty,” Dutch looks up at Arthur as he approaches and John goes stiff, “Ain’t that so, Arthur?”

“... Yeah,” Arthur says quietly, “Probably wanna dust, though.”

Dutch laughs softly like this isn’t strange and that John hasn’t been gone for almost two years.

“Well… Welcome back, son,” Dutch says and squeezes John’s shoulder, “Let Hosea look at your face sometime soon.”

“Sure,” John says hoarsely, “Yeah, thanks.”

They both watch Dutch disappear into the crowd and stand quietly. 

“The hell happened to your face?” Arthur asks quietly. 

“Wolves.”

“No shit?”

John shifts his weight, shrugs.

“... Wolves?" Arthur asks and shifts so he's standing in front of John, his hand coming up to lift John's chin, wanting a better look at the injury but John steps back. 

Or stumbles, really. 

Grimacing and grabbing at his thigh through his jeans.

"They get your leg too?" Arthur asks then grabs John's arm, guiding the younger away from the crowd to a barstool and forcing John to sit. 

John lets him, too tired to fight right now. 

"What happened?" 

"Was… Was workin' on a ranch, big one, up in Colorado. Horse got loose, went lookin' for her up in the mountains and… Well," John shrugs, gestures at himself, "Spent a week in a hospital, got laid off, drove back here."

"You got fired?"

"No… Not like _fired_ fired, but I can't exactly work like this," John whispers, "They helped pay my bills n' were real nice but I didn't wanna be dead weight."

"So you came home."

John presses his lips together and drops his gaze, watching past Arthur's shoulder out at the crowd. 

"Jesus, John, two years?" Arthur whispers thickly, "Not a word from you?"

"Been keepin' Dutch in the loop."

"Oh, so just me then? Just me you didn't say goodbye to or-"

"Arthur," John says steadily and Arthur freezes. 

There's that hardness he saw, something eerily different about John besides his whole appearance. 

"You let me know I wasn't wanted by you," John says and lifts his gaze to Arthur's, one of his dark eyes full of blood and Arthur wonders how much pain the younger is in, "You laid out just how useless I am to you. Why should you care?"

"I told you I didn't mean it," Arthur whispers. 

"You sure as hell did when you said it."

"John-" 

"No. Look, Arthur… I'm really tired," John says and some of that hardness softens, weakens as the younger rubs under his jaw and gestures roughly between them, "I don't care anymore, alright? Don't even heat anymore so just- Just let it go."

"You can't just say that and expect me to let it go, what do you mean by 'don't heat anymore'?" 

"I mean I don't heat no more, Arthur. You gone dumb?" John huffs and rubs harder under where the stitches end, "Jesus."

"You sick?" Arthur asks quietly, "Heartsick?" 

John barks a sharp laugh and leans back, looking up at Arthur. 

"You think I'm _heartsick_ over you?" John asks like it's the best joke he's ever heard and Arthur bristles, "Fuck off, Arthur."

"I'm just askin'-"

"Well stop."

Arthur stands still for a moment then nods slowly. 

John stands from the stool and forces Arthur to step back. 

There's a roar behind them and bells, and fireworks and John just flinches, eyes darting to the side to see everybody celebrating the stroke of midnight. 

The new year. 

"... Happy New Year," John mutters but doesn't wait for a reply as he heads in the direction of his old room. 

\--

John's wounds heal and he's gradually able to do some chores around the ranch but he mostly works indoors for the first year. 

Every month passes like the blink of an eye between Mary and their whole mess and not quite making nice with John. 

Three months come and go with no sign of John heating.

They mostly just avoid each other.

Six.

And John'll let him sit next to him again at dinner without the mood souring.

Twelve.

He and Mary start arguing more, when he wants to move towards claiming her proper, marrying her, maybe starting a family, and she keeps pushing it back. 

And he doesn’t wanna force anything, really, he loves Mary but she drives him insane sometimes. 

He’s not sure that isn’t _why_ he loves her. 

Eighteen.

John catches him on a bad night, sitting out on the deck. 

Arthur watches as the younger falters, looks like he wants to turn around and leave Arthur alone. 

Then sighs quietly and comes out, setting the ashtray with pack and lighter inside next to Arthur and sitting down. 

John taps the pack out and holds a cigarette out to Arthur, holding his own in his teeth and lifting the lighter in offering. 

Arthur takes the offer, leans in and lets John light him up. 

“So,” John says quietly and blows smoke out into the night’s cool air. 

“So?”

“I mean… What’s wrong?” John asks, “You sittin’ out here mopin’.”

“I ain’t mopin’.”

“You don’t got your journal, a drink, smokes, anythin’?” John squints at him then shakes his head, “Mopin’.”

Arthur huffs quietly and rubs at his face. 

“I don’t _know_ ,” Arthur mutters, “Bought a ring.”

“... Oh.”

“I feel like a fool for it, too.”

“Do you… Do you got a plan to propose?”

“No.”

“... Okay.”

“Like I said, I don’t know,” Arthur mutters and smokes, “Don’t know shit.”

“Well, what’s stoppin’ you?”

“Her Daddy don’t like me.”

“... That ain’t exactly news.”

Arthur huffs again and looks sideways at John who shrugs. 

\--

Two years since John came back, four since he left. 

And Arthur sits down next to John on the couch in the den. 

John startles awake, sitting up and staring at Arthur. 

Then blinking, recognition slowly filtering into his expression before he groans and rubs his eyes and lays back down. 

“C’mon, man,” John whispers, “The fuck, Arthur?”

“You good? Why you sleepin’ down here?”

“Why are _you_ down here?”

“Saw the light on,” Arthur gestures to the bouncing ‘dvd’ screen and sits back on the couch. 

“... Ugh, it’s just- Heat, I don’t get ‘em but I still feel strange when it comes around,” John mutters, “And I had a nightmare n’ woke up all strange and just didn’t… I don’t know.”

“Nightmare?”

“Wolves.”

“Oh… You never said exactly what happened."

John squirms on the couch and yanks the blanket down from over the back, pressing himself against the cushions. 

His feet shoving at Arthur’s thigh. 

“And I ain’t gonna.”

Arthur rolls his eyes and pulls John’s feet onto his lap. 

John stills, then slowly settles down. 

Trying not to acknowledge how good it feels to even have the simplest touch on him right now. 

“You kinda smell like you’re heated,” Arthur says slowly, “Just a bit.”

“I ain’t. It doesn’t… It just doesn’t happen right anymore.”

“... Would you want me to scent you?”

“... Arthur.”

“Just scentin’, nothin’ else, yeah?” Arthur shifts on the couch and gestures at John laying down, “Might help you sleep.”

John sucks on his teeth for a moment then nods. 

Mostly because it’s too tempting. 

He hasn’t been touched in any sort of comforting, caring way in four years. 

Arthur gently moves his feet and lays down behind him, sandwiching him between Arthur’s body and the back of the couch. 

“How often you get nightmares?” Arthur whispers. 

His fingertips warm as they brush John’s long hair back from his face, pulling it up off the younger’s claiming spot. 

“Not that often, anymore,” John mumbles, shivers when Arthur’s knuckles brush over his claiming spot, his shoulders lifting a bit, “Maybe once a month.”

Arthur’s fingers move to John’s jaw, barely ghosting over the bottom point of one scar. 

John flinches away and turns his head. 

“Don’t.”

“Alright… Sorry,” Arthur murmurs and leans in, rubbing his cheek over John’s claiming spot, settling his hand on John’s upper arm because it seems like the safest place. 

John shivers again and makes a weak, low sound. 

"Feel good?" Arthur whispers, and it's almost habit when he moves his hand down and wraps his arm over John's waist, pressing into John's stomach and tugging the younger back against his front. 

John tenses and squirms and squeezes the blanket. 

Arthur rubs his cheek slowly over the younger's claiming spot and slips his hand under John's t-shirt to soothingly run his fingers over John's belly. 

"Arthur," John says shakily and curls up as his face heats. 

"Hm?" Arthur presses his lips under John's claiming spot then understands when he can scent John's arousal, "Oh… It's alright." 

"S'not," John says hoarsely. 

"... Do you wanna stop?"

John squirms against him again, turning more onto his stomach to hide, but he shakes his head slowly. 

Arthur ghosts his fingers up John's ribs, catching on the edge of the scars under John's chest, pausing and following the rough tissue. 

"When'd this happen?" 

"Couple months 'fore I came back," John says, muffled by the blanket. 

"You happy with that?" Arthur whispers.

John nods and swallows when Arthur's fingertips graze his nipple, moving to his sternum, then down. 

He tries to settle, grabs Arthur's arm and hugs it to his chest, holding himself tightly in the process. 

Arthur stills behind him then presses his cheek more firmly to John's claiming spot, worming his other arm underneath the younger's waist to hold John. 

Just gently scenting the younger until he feels sleepy himself, comforted by being so tangled up in a familiar scent. 

"You wanna go back to bed?" Arthur mumbles. 

Waits for a reply. 

Lifts up to peek over John's shoulder, seeing the younger's sleep-slack expression and huffing a quiet laugh, just studying John for a moment. 

"Missed you, Johnny," Arthur whispers, "I really did."

\--

John wakes up bundled in the blanket from the den, in his bed. 

He has to reckon with the realization that Arthur more than likely _carried_ him across the ranch to his room and he feels his face flushing. 

The memory of how close he got to heating with just Arthur's gentle touches makes him groan and sling his arms over his face in embarrassment. 

Four years without a proper heat and Arthur has him wanting to roll over and beg without even trying. 

John struggles to untangle himself from the blankets and sits up, scrubbing at his face. 

Arthur bought Mary a _ring_ for Christ's sake, John needs to get over this. 

But he's always been selfish, and that ain't changin' anytime soon. 

**Author's Note:**

> [tumblr](https://providentialeyes.tumblr.com)   
>  [my twitter](https://www.twitter.com/gwennolmarie)   
>  [horny twitter](https://www.twitter.com/swampslip)


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